


A bird walks into a bar

by rinnya



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Clint Barton & Natasha Romanov Friendship, Clint Barton & Sam Wilson Friendship, Clint Barton & T'Challa Friendship, Exasperated Clint, Exasperated Sam, Exasperated T'Challa, F/F, F/M, Foursomes, Gay Bar, Homophobia (mention), Idiots in Love, M/M, Meet-Cute, Multi, Natasha Romanov & Sam Wilson Friendship, Natasha Romanov & T'Challa Friendship, Oblivious Bucky Barnes, Oblivious Steve Rogers, One Night Stands, Original Female Character(s) - Freeform, Pining, Platonic Sex, Sam Wilson & T'Challa Friendship, exasperated natasha
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-31
Updated: 2017-05-05
Packaged: 2018-08-28 04:45:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8432383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rinnya/pseuds/rinnya
Summary: “Look at them,” Clint wrinkled his nose distastefully.“Those young people are disgusting,” he muttered.“You know,” a rather handsome man within earshot came up to him, “this is a gay bar. If you’re uncomfortable with public displays of affection between two people of the same sex, then maybe-”“-oh, no, you have it all wrong wrong, man,” Clint laughed nervously, “those are my friends.”The man looked unconvinced.“The disgusting part is how they’re both crushing on each other but too dumb to realize it, which is why they’re attempting to be each other’s wingman at a gay bar,” he explained, then caught the eye of the blond in the pair, who waved at him rather enthusiastically and dorkily, ruining his bad-boy persona that the brunet was fussing over him for.Or:Clint, Sam, Natasha and T'Challa have their own fun while watching Steve and Bucky pine over each other. (Or are they?)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> (Shrugs)

**Two birds walk into a bar**

“Look at them,” Clint wrinkled his nose distastefully, sloshing beer over the counter as he lamented to nobody in particular, and he gestured rather dramatically to the oblivious duo - one blond and one brunet, chatting amicably against the bar counter.

“Those young people are disgusting,” he muttered and turned his nose up, making a dissatisfied sound as his gaze swept past them deliberately.

“You know,” a rather handsome man within earshot came up to him, lips pursed and eyes narrowed dangerously, “this is a gay bar. If you’re uncomfortable with public displays of affection between two people of the same sex, then maybe-”

“-oh, no, you have it all wrong wrong, man,” Clint laughed nervously, dropping his facade, “those are my friends.”

The man - he was attractive; hot, now that Clint got a better look at him, without the blaring lighting, looked unconvinced.

“The disgusting part is how they’re both crushing on each other but too dumb to realize it, which is why they’re attempting to be each other’s wingman at a gay bar,” he explained, then caught the eye of the blond in the pair, who waved at him rather enthusiastically and dorkily, ruining his bad-boy persona that the brunet was fussing over him for.

“Well, then,” hot-stranger laughed, a pretty warm sound, and the earlier tension dissipated, “sorry for the misunderstanding, and thank you for an interesting story for my girls back home.”

“This is a gay bar,” Clint reiterated, eyebrow raised questioningly, and hot-stranger laughed again, “I have two sisters,” he paused, “I could be bisexual, you know.”

Clint flashed him a wide smile, and turned back to watch the duo, the brunet caught up in exaggerating a story and the blond laughing at his frantic gesticulations, they looked more like lovers in their own honeymoon bubble than the other’s wingman.

He snorted inelegantly, and turned his attention to the rather stunning man who was not unsubtly checking him out, deciding that hot-stranger was more worth his time than his two massive dorks for friends who couldn’t get their head out of their asses long enough to kiss under a figurative mistletoe.

“Tell me about yourself,” he said, and hot stranger shifted his position on his seat, giving Clint an impressive view of his muscles, and the faint outline of a chain, possibly dog tags, under his tight shirt.

“Sam Wilson,” the man grinned. Clint flashed him what he hoped was a flirty smile, “now I can stop referring you as ‘hot-stranger’ in my head.”

Sam laughed, again. Clint decided that he liked making him laugh.

“I have two annoying sisters,” Sam rolled his eyes, lips quirked up into a small smile as he recalled a fond memory, “and I work as a VA counselor, ex-military.”

“Ah,” Clint nodded, taking a sip of his beer. That explained the dog tags.

“Clint Barton,” he introduced, “I have a brother, and two lovesick idiots for friends,” he gestured pointedly to the pair again, the blond now gesturing to another blond who had just entered the bar, completely unaware that the brunet had eyes for only him, “I teach archery at a gym.”

Sam nodded, like it was actually interesting, then, “what's up with them,” he jabbed a thumb in the general direction of the oblivious duo, blond frowning while watching brunet flirt uncomfortably with the previous other-blond aka not-the-blond-of-his-eyes.

Clint watched them, then scoffed, “ol’ Barnes and Rogers? They have the whole cliche romantic comedy plot down in their lives - childhood best friends-turned-crush, and they have it in their heads that a platonic friendship is the most of what they’re gonna get,” Clint rolled his eyes, “‘Oh no, Clint,’” he mocked, waving air quotes with his fingers, “‘I don’t want to ruin our friendship, Clint!’ ‘What if he never speaks to me again, Clint?’” he spoke with a falsetto, even though both guys had a deeper voice than he did.

“Honestly,” he continued, “they grew up together, they live together, they sleep together - just sleeping, mind you, with a whole lot of adorable cuddling, that’s the worst part - they have this weird couples-sync thing going on, they act like a long-married couple, they even say ‘I love you’ on a regular basis,” Clint groaned, because the disaster that was his best friends’ romantic lives were causing him literal physical pain, “and they’re both all like, ‘no Clint, we’re just best friends, Clint,’, cues nervous laughter, nah! Best friends!? Barnes has like, thousands of photos of Rogers in his secret diary.”

Sam snorted into his drink, wheezing slightly, “sure,” he caught his breath and recomposed himself a few moments after.

“Wanna hear a story?” Clint grinned, leaning in closer with his palm open by his lips, as if he was planning to whisper a secret, “one time, in high school, Barnes tried to practice confessing his love for lil Rogers on me - yep, all the way back in highschool, and he still hasn’t made his move, that dumb prick - anyways, he was all, ‘oh I love you not in the platonic way and I want to suck your dick’ and it’s this moment Rogers’s mother walks in and he thinks that Barnes and I are going to get it on,” he wiggles his eyebrows suggestively, “on her living room floor, and she just says, ‘if any of you come on my couch you’re dry-cleaning the entire thing’, and I swear you could see all of Barnes’s hopes and dreams crumble up on the floor, and he goes running after her, screaming, ‘it’s just practice for an actual confession and i actually have the biggest gay crush on your teenage son!’ And he tries to convince her about his insanely obvious gay crush, it was freaking hilarious, I tell you! He even showed her all the creepy stalkerish pictures of Rogers he had.” 

Clint cracked up, and Sam chortled, wiping away a stray tear from laughing too hard. 

“This reminded me,” Sam grinned, “of a little punk I knew back in high school, too, who had a large crush on his best friend. He was real small and a spunky spitfire, and I told him, ‘your boy thinks you’re hot, man, have you seen the way he looks at you? Come on, he likes your tacky hipster glasses and your blond hair and your blue eyes whether or not you believe it, he was practically eye-fucking you today’, but Steve-”

“-Steven Fucking Grant Rogers?” Clint interrupted, wide eyes, “that’s him, blondie over there.”

Sam turned, squinted at the buff blond who was waving his hands madly in the middle of an animated story to the brunet, and he could almost make out his familiar face.

“No fucking way,” Sam breathed, awe in his voice and amazement in his eyes, “that one? Steve? Are you sure - did he ingest like tons of steroids or something? He used to be so-”

“-small and pissy, yeah,” Clint laughed, “hit one hell of a growth spurt later on, yeah?”

“Shit,” Sam laughed, continuing to stare at Steve in mild astonishment, disbelief in his tone, “and if my guess about the lovesick idiots are right, that’s Bucky Barnes?”

“The one and only,” Clint took a large swig of his beer, and Sam spluttered upon the realization, “what the actual fuck? It’s been 10 years!”

“Tell me about it,” he groaned in exasperation and frustration, “their relationship status causes me extreme pain."

Sam nodded, and the duo silently watched the other pair interact, before-

“-I really can’t take any more of this,” Clint stood up, running his fingers in his hair, “let’s bail. My place or yours?”

“Straight to the point,” Sam grinned at him, “yours. My sisters are home.”

Clint started to head for the door, a hand on the small of Sam’s back as they weaved through the crowd, and he threw Steve and Bucky one last, sympathetic look, “those dumb-asses,” he shook his head affectionately; “a lost cause,” Sam agreed.

  
  
  
  
  


 

 

“You do realise we just established, in twenty minutes, a quicker-moving and more sexually intimate relationship than Steve and Bucky, people who have actual love and not an ounce of common sense between them, have in twenty years?”

“Sam Wilson,” Clint looked at him, stars in his eyes, “I think we just became best friends.”


	2. A bird and a spider walk into a bar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Excuse me."  
> Clint and Sam whirled around, to lay their eyes on a small lithe redhead, “we take our patrons’ privacy very seriously, here, and I’d have to request you delete the video you took or we would have to escort you out of the premises-”  
> “-oh, no, you have it all wrong, man,” Sam said, “those are our friends.”  
> “I’ll prove it,” Sam said, subtly elbowing Clint, and he raised a hand, “yo, Barnes! Get your ass over here!”  
> Sam watched as Bucky unplastered himself from the wall and trudged over, “the fuck, Wilson?”  
> And then he spotted the little redhead, “oh, hey, Nat.”
> 
> Or:  
> Natasha and Clint meet in a bar, while he and new-best-friend-Sam laugh over their friends' obvious mutual pining.

**A bird and a spider walk into a bar**

“Absolutely horrendous,” Clint’s face twisted into a horrible grimace, watching one of the duo -the brunet, failing to stifle flames of jealousy, and the blond, awkwardly attempt to pick up a stunning brunette with green eyes, giggling into her purse.

“Such terrible display of courtship,” his face contorted into odd shapes as the blond tried and failed miserably, stumbling over with what was probably a cheesy pick-up line, but the brunette didn’t seem to mind because the blond was hot and adorable, whilst the male brunet fumed silently in the corner.

“You know,” a rather handsome man within earshot came up to him, lips pursed and eyes narrowed dangerously, “this is a straight bar. If you’re uncomfortable with public displays of affection between two people of different sexes, then maybe-”

“-oh, no, you have it all wrong wrong, man,” Clint gave Sam a wide grin, dropping his facade, “those are my friends.”

“The disgusting part is how they’re both crushing on each other but too dumb to realize it, which is why they’re attempting to be each other’s wingman at a straight bar,” he explained, and Sam rolled his eyes, “no change from the last time, I see.”

“Don’t I know it,” Clint grumbled, “it’s awful to see them pine over each other like this. The whole house smells like Christmas. You know, with all the pining. Pine. Ing.”

“That. Was. Terrible,” Sam deadpanned, and there was a pause, before both men erupted into fits of giggles.

“Okay, okay,” Sam raised a hand in surrender, and they both looked over just in time to see the brunette pull the blond into a heated kiss, the blond sporting a heavy blush the same color as the lipstick smeared over his mouth, and his brunet companion looking on with a pained smile.

“Honestly,” Sam tsked, “10 years of cowardice.”

“It would be hilarious if it wasn’t so painful to watch,” Clint winced, but he shifted in his seat to fish his phone from his jeans, “if I take a video, I can play it at their wedding,” he winked at Sam, who laughed, “they’ll get married when they’re 95,” he snarked, “those poor fools.”

Clint gave a long, pained sigh as he started recording the video, perfectly capturing the moment the brunette let blond up for air, who was wearing a dopey and confused grin on his face. The brunet shot the girl a jealous look and turned to down the rest of his beer. Clint and Sam snickered.

“Excuse me.”

Clint and Sam whirled around, Clint almost losing the grip on his phone, to lay their eyes on a small lithe redhead, who was staring at them coldly, “we take our patrons’ privacy very seriously, here, and I’d have to request you delete the video you took or we would have to escort you out of the premises-”

“-oh, no, you have it all wrong, man,” Sam said again, for the second time that day, “those are our friends.”

The redhead raised an eyebrow, chilling stare still on her face, as she looked from a dumbstruck Clint to a nervous Sam.

“I’ll prove it,” Sam said, subtly elbowing Clint who still looked shell-shocked, and he raised a hand, “yo, Barnes! Get your ass over here!”

The brunet looked up from glaring at his beer bottle, spotted Sam’s frantic waving, glanced to Steve who now had two - fuck - girls on his lap, and sighed. Sam watched as Bucky unplastered himself from the wall and trudged over, “the fuck, Wilson?”

And then he spotted the little redhead, “oh, hey, Nat.”

“You know her?” Clint spluttered, then immediately turned beet red when Nat’s eyes snapped back towards him.

“Sure,” Bucky shrugged nonchalantly, and swiped Clint’s drink off the table, ignoring his own bottle in his hands, and took a huge gulp.

“They were taking a video of strangers - or not, since they know you,” Nat shrugged, arms crossed, and Bucky narrowed his eyes, “a video of us?”

“To play at yours and Steve’s wedding,” Clint offered, eyes glinting mischievously, “I already have my best man speech planned out. ‘And here we have videographic proof of Barnes acting like a total pine tree - geddit? With all the pining? - and setting his childhood-friend-then-crush-now-husband with a couple of hot girls because he was too afraid of confessing his true love, but standing here now I can proudly say, I told you so-”

“-shut the fuck up,’ Bucky hissed, ears red, and Nat’s eyes widened in interest, she pushed Bucky away as she took Steve in, the blond blushing like a virgin as one of the girls kissed his cheek, never mind that she had her tongue down his throat a minute ago, “that’s the famous Steve Rogers? Holy fucking shit, you sure know how to pick them,” she made a show of licking her lips suggestively, “hey, before you ask him out, can I get a go at ‘im? Blond and Buff are totally in right now.”

“No, he’s mine,” Bucky snapped, then turned redder, if that was possible, “if you want blond and buff, take Clint,” he muttered, hiding his face in Sam’s shaking shoulder, as he tried and failed to stifle laughs.

Nat turned to Clint, looked him up, down, and raised her eyebrow, looking as intimidating as before but suddenly twice as hot with her little smirk, “yea, you’re cute. I like your arms. Wanna fuck?”

Clint’s mouth dropped open, he tried to close it, and he blinked, once, twice, “uh…”

“My shift ends in half an hour,” she continued, “if you hang around till then, I’ll drive us to my place. You just hit the alcohol limit,” she gestured to the beer bottles Clint had cracked open, and bumped his knee with her hip, “see ya.”

There was another pause.

“What?”

“Woah man, you’re gonna get laid,” Sam grinned, and punched Clint’s arm affectionately, “nice.”

“...she’s hot,” Clint stammered, and Bucky rolled his eyes, “he has it bad. Let’s get Steve and go.”

“Speaking of Steve and having it bad…”

“...Wilson, don’t you dare complete that sentence.”

  
  
  
  
  


“You have a really cute tattoo.”

“Are you usually this chatty after sex?”

Clint opened his mouth, then shut it, looking like a kicked puppy.

“Oh god,” Natasha rolled her eyes, “keep talking. It’s a nice change. And move your ass - we’re not sleeping on these sheets.”


	3. A bird and a cat walk into a bar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Disgusting-” Sam started, but Clint rolled his eyes, patting his friend on the arm affectionately, “already did the monologue with Natasha, dear.”  
> Sam looked as offended as he could, “what? That’s our thing? What happened to bros before ho-” he glanced briefly to Natasha’s blank face and changed his words, “-brovaries before ovaries, dude?”  
> A presence slid next to Natasha, and she turned to meet a rather handsome man watching the scene unfold in amusement. “Do they realise that they’re in public?” He asked.
> 
> Or:  
> T'challa and Sam meet in a bar, at Clint and Natasha's discretion, while Bucky and Steve pine.

**A bird and a cat walk into a bar**

“This is just atrocious,” Clint shook his fist in mock anger, earning a few amused looks from the patrons in the bar, “absolutely ridiculous. Stupid,” he rolled his eyes.

“You see those two over there,” he called, pointedly gesturing to a blond and a brunet out of earshot, badly pretending that their friendship was purely platonic through the blaring music.

“What about those two?” A redhead sauntered coolly up to him, one hand on her hip as she cocked her eyebrow in challenge, “are you here to threaten our patrons? Because-”

“-oh, no, you have it all wrong wrong, man,” Clint gave Natasha a wide grin,, “those are my friends.”

“The disgusting part is how they’re both crushing on each other but too dumb to realize it, which is why they’re attempting to be each other’s wingman at a straight bar,” he explained. The brunet had his hands on some girl fawning over him, the blond watching them awkwardly.

“That is ridiculous,” Natasha nodded, Clint could tell she was resisting the urge to sign, then spun around and planted a peck on Clint’s lips, “where’s Sam?”

Clint frowned, an act because the sides of his lips kept quirking up, “you kiss me than ask for Sam? That doesn’t break my heart at all.” 

“Of course not,” she replied, not missing a beat, “he owes me a drink.”

“You work here,” Clint deadpanned, and she shrugged.

The blond had a girl with dyed pink bangs pinned against the wall, making out, and the brunet lost interest in his companion, and was instead watching them in distaste. Natasha let out a rather crude snort at that.

As if on cue, Sam slid into the seat next to Clint’s, “what I miss?”

Clint gestured to the odd pair, not taking his eyes off the duo, and Sam turned in time to see the brunet shake off a displeased blonde from his arm. Wrong blond, apparently. 

“Disgusting-” Sam started, but Clint rolled his eyes, patting his friend on the arm affectionately, “already did the monologue with Natasha, dear.”

Sam looked as offended as he could, hand dramatically placed over his chest, “what? That’s our thing? What happened to bros before ho-” he glanced briefly to Natasha’s blank face and changed his words, “-brovaries before ovaries, dude?”

Natasha gave Sam a rather unimpressed look, which he chalked up to a better expression than he would have gotten if he had called Natasha a hoe.

“Brovaries before ovaries? Where did you even-” Clint shook his head, “never mind.”   
“I mind,” Sam interjected, “I don’t care if you’re dating now. We fucked first, that has to count for something, right? How could you do the monologue with her?”

Natasha’s eye twitched as several people, catching snippets of the conversation, turned their way. Clint and Sam remained blissfully oblivious. She turned to watch a blonde roll her eyes at a distracted brunet before sliding in between another blond and a pink-haired girl, rubbing against both of them as the music went.

“Well I’m sorry, you came late,” Clint threw his hands up in exasperation, “two people had to do the monologue, and-”

“-what, is her ass better than mine or something? You betrayed me,” Sam’s eyes narrowed.

“Well, first of all, yes, it is,” Clint snarked, “second, it doesn’t matter! It’s not my fault that-”

A presence slid next to Natasha, and she turned to meet a rather handsome man watching the scene unfold in amusement. “Do they realize that they’re in public?” He asked, a thick accent accompanying his non-local looks.

Natasha stared at Clint and Sam for a moment, “i doubt so,” she said, voice laced with mock frustration, then surveyed the man for a moment. Appeased, she turned back, “the blond is mine. The other one, Sam, you can have,” she added, and the man gave her a look of both suspicion and curiosity, “what makes you think I’m interested?”

“Just saying,” Natasha shrugged, sounding far too innocent for someone who didn’t know her well.

“Of course,” the man smirked at her a knowing glint in his eyes, “T’challa,” he offered a hand.

“Natasha,” she returned, then, “I’ll see you around, T’challa.”

He watched her leave, a cocky sway of her hips as she disappeared into the crowd, and turned to the two men, who were sitting next to each other with their knees touching, an obvious show of affection and intimacy, but their arms were crossed and they faced away from each other, pouting childishly. T’challa laughed at that, and Sam’s eyes shifted in his direction, darkening in interest.

Clint caught that gesture, he turned to Sam to see him watching the stranger with wide-blown pupils, and appraised the person of Sam’s attention for a moment, before hopping off his chair with finality and stalking over.

Sam’s eyes widened in alarm, he reached out but barely brushed Clint’s sleeve and watched in despair as Clint already took the attractive man by his hand, whispering sharply into his ear and glancing back at Sam with mischievous eyes.

Clint pulled away, looking decidedly smug, and shot Sam a proud look. He turned to watch a brunet angrily drag a blond, confused and covered in lipstick, through the crowd and out the exit, muttering something under his breath all the way. Clint grinned. The man watched Clint leave, lips quirking in amusement, before stalking over.

“Hello,” he said, and then Sam was so done for.

“....Hi, I’m Sam,” he started, and raised his hand for a shake, almost gasping when the man’s warm hand slid into his own, a firm grip.

“T’challa,” he said, eyebrow raised, lips in a little smirk.

God, that was hot.

Fuck me, Sam thought, and he hadn't realized he had muttered those words aloud, until T’challa grinned at him, a cat-got-the-bird look on his face.

“Okay” he said, and Sam blushed deep.

  
  
  
  
  


 

 

 

“Your friend says this is ‘an apology’ for not including you in the monologue,” T’challa turned to Sam, who groaned.

“Can we not talk about Clint when you just had your dick in my ass?”

 


	4. Two birds, a cat and a spider walk out of the bar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “So, who’s with who now?”  
> “Natasha’s with Clint now,” Bucky didn’t bother looking up from his phone, “and T’challa with Sam.”  
> “Cool,” Steve leant forward to give the giggling brunette, Shay, a peck on the lips.
> 
> Or:  
> Steve and Bucky aren't that oblivious. But maybe their friends are.

**Two birds, a cat, and a spider walk out of a bar**

“So, who’s with who now?”

“Natasha’s with Clint now,” Bucky didn’t bother looking up from his phone, “and T’challa with Sam.”

“Cool,” Steve leant forward to give the giggling brunette, Shay, a peck on the lips, “did they leave?”

“A while ago,” Bucky shrugged, putting his phone back into his jeans as he pulled the girl with dyed maroon bangs, Claudia onto his lap and pulled her into a rather hot kiss, before pulling away to take a breath. “They got tired of me watching you flirt.”

Steve snorted inelegantly, then stepped back so that the girl he had pinned could pat her clothes down, and reached for his keys, “come on girls, I’m driving.”

“Girls? What about me?”

“Take a bus,” Steve snarked, and both girls squeezed under his arm, giggling as they walked out of the bar.

“A foursome’s not a foursome without four,” Bucky whined, following behind, “sure, make your boyfriend take the bus and fuck the two hot girls without me.”

“You are supposed to be my wingman,” Steve said drily, and slid into the driver’s seat. Claudia started to straddle Steve’s lap and slid a hand down the front of his pants.

“Hands off the merchandise,” Bucky threw himself in the passenger seat next to Steve, “merch rental starts only once we’re in the apartment.”

“Fuck you, his dick is great,” Claudia said without heat, and Shay mock-gasped.

“It’s okay, I still prefer pussy,” she reassured, and Steve snorted inelegantly, “backseat, girls, I need to drive.”

Claudia flipped her hair and kissed Steve again, before sliding over him and throwing herself face-first into Shay’s lap, and sliding a hand up her dress.

“Don’t fuck in my car,” Bucky admonished.

“You guys have fucked in this car,” Shay retorted, shifting so Claudia could pull her underwear down.

“Yes, that’s because he’s my boyfriend and this is my car,” he rolled his eyes, amused, and kicked Steve, “fuckin’ drive, man.”

Steve shot him a look as his phone buzzed. Bucky plucked it off his jeans and read the text, “it’s Sam. He asks, ‘did you profess your love to Bucky yet?’”

“Tell him ‘Sam, stop, I’ve told you, he doesn’t like me that way,’” Steve failed to hide his grin, and Bucky typed the message, laughing,

There was a pause, then his phone buzzed again. “‘Dammit Steve, you’re oblivious, anyone could see that Bucky only has eyes for you,’” Bucky read.

“It’s true,” Shay giggled, legs splayed open from where Claudia had her face buried in, “you guys were eye-fucking so erotically we didn’t know why you bothered to talk us up.”

Steve and Bucky shared a look, and gave each other twin grins of mischief.

“I got a message now,” Bucky proclaimed, “it’s from Clint. He says, ‘did you suck his dick yet?’ I’m going to tell him ‘Claudia’s going to, not me,’ and add several frowny face emoticons.”

“You damn right I will,” Claudia remarked, her voice muffled under fabric. Shay moaned.

“My car’s going to smell like sex,” Bucky complained, and Steve rolled his eyes, “it already smells like sex.”

“Gay sex is different from lesbian sex,” he started to argue, and Claudia lifted her head to laugh, “you sound like an old married couple.”

“A hot old married couple,” Shay commented, and righted her position.

“No need to hide, doll, we’ll see it all later,” Bucky teased, and Steve elbowed him. “What,” the brunet gave a shit-eating grin, “is that how it is? Don’t worry, Stevie, I still prefer your dick.”

“I wish I could say the same,” the blond deadpanned, and Bucky took the effort to look appalled, “oh, really? Fuck you too, Steve.”

“Speaking of,” Shay leaned forward, “who tops?”

“Obviously Steve,” Claudia grinned sultrily, “he has the bigger dick.”

Bucky stared at her, and Steve laughed, “Bucky’s dick is bigger, really, you’d expect it from a nickname like his. I just know how to use mine better.”

Bucky opened his mouth, closed it, then shrugged, “he’s right.”

Shay and Claudia giggled.

Bucky’s phone buzzed again. “Clint says, ‘Barnes, stop pining, do something about it, suck his dick.’”

Shay opened her mouth again, and Steve answered her new question, “Bucky’s better at dick-sucking,” he said rather proudly, “all the better for me.”

“How would you know?”

There was a pause, then… “I’m flexible.”

Claudia and Shay squealed so loudly that Steve winced. “You’re flexible? You can suck your own dick? Can we watch?”

“Hey,” Bucky snapped, a little too hostile for his liking, “some private shows are reserved for boyfriend-only.”

Steve snorted, and Claudia leaned back, pouting, “yea, whatever. Are we there yet? I want Steve to fuck me.”

  
  
  
  
  


 

“Honestly,” Sam threw his phone to the other end of the bed, “how are they so oblivious? ‘Sam stop, I’ve told you, he doesn’t like me that way. Honestly, Steve? Really?”

“I know, right?” Clint rolled over, “Bucky is no better. Those two idiots.”

T’challa rolled his eyes. Natasha sighed, “We should include them in casual foursome - well sixsome, with us, sex. Maybe if they actually suck each others’ dick they’ll find out how much they love each other.”

“That’s a terrible idea,” Sam deadpanned, “I bet neither of them actually have had a threesome, let alone a sixsome. Besides, with us? They’re going to just make it really awkward.”

Clint rolled his eyes. “So oblivious.”

The four sighed collectively.

**Author's Note:**

> (Shrugs again)


End file.
